


Plotting and Plots

by CruelBeauty



Series: Tailored Temptations [8]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Actor - Freeform, Costume Design, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22453348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruelBeauty/pseuds/CruelBeauty
Summary: “Would we seriously be over just like that? Do you want to end it? I mean I know the contract is intense but isn’t there a way we can make it work. Do you really want me to go?” He had thought they were pretty serious, moving in together serious.“Well I don’t know, Anthony you tell me!” Aziraphale said, harsh and loud in the kitchen.Crowley jerked back and stood. Aziraphale never raised his voice. And definitely never at him.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Tailored Temptations [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1493810
Comments: 20
Kudos: 93





	Plotting and Plots

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read on its own but I don't recommend. Explicit rating is due to the fact other works in the series contain smut, this one does not. Sorry.

In the acting world, a fallacy actors are told to look out for is the imitative fallacy when reading scripts. This fallacy, which Crowley is very familiar with, is where the author when trying to write an emotion or scene, accidentally employs that method by accident instead of writing it. This is to say, an author trying to express a lack of communication in a scene between characters, accidentally makes the scene confusing for the reader or watcher.

If God is the author, and Aziraphale and Crowley are the actors, something very similar was happening here. To an outsider, the following argument between Aziraphale and Crowley was nearly impossible to follow. It is then crucial after considering this to keep in mind how confusing it was for the two men.

Somewhere God was in fact watching the scene unfold between our two ‘actors’ and was greatly annoyed by the confusing mess that was the following discussion. 

If God had the ability or more accurately the desire to change the scene, that is to say, ignore free will. God would have rewritten the following discussion to add some important details that would change a number of things that unfold as a result.

1\. Aziraphale was under the impression that Crowley had signed a contract for Europe. This was false. The contract was forged.

2\. Crowley was under the impression Aziraphale had signed a contract for America. This was also false. The contract was also forged.

3\. Crowley was offered a job in Austria. He had not agreed to it, and the business card for the theatre he believed was in his pant pocket innocently forgotten there.  
.  
4\. Aziraphale was offered the opportunity to go to a costume exhibit in Chicago by Gabriel if desired for a short vacation (this wasn’t a crucial fact right away but important to note).

5\. If either person had been more clear in their communication they would have realized the above mentioned facts and the whole discussion could have been avoided or altered in some significant way.

Tragically, for our two men, neither brought up these false assumptions and the following discussion did occur.

Once Aziraphale was dressed, he picked up the business card and went into the kitchen, ready to confront Crowley.

Crowley was wearing his black robe, small marks from the night prior on the side of his neck peeking through the side of the robe. Even with Aziraphale’s somber mood he couldn’t help but preen a little at the sight. Aziraphale’s tea was already steeping next to Crowley, the sight making his heart skip a beat. He had become so comfortable and used to their small routines together.

Crowley eyed the tea unaware of Aziraphale’s presence, hoping some of his glaring will inspire the tea to be the perfect strength and temperature for Aziraphale. He was awfully particular about his tea and Crowley was determined to master the art.

Crowley finished plating the last crepe and sat their plates down at the small table, flashing a quick smile to Aziraphale as he entered the room. Aziraphale shakily sat down at his seat, mentally rehearsing what he was going to say.

Crowley took a sip of his coffee before looking up and noticing Aziraphale's pale look. "Something wrong?" He asked leaning forward at the table.

Aziraphale breathed in deeply and sat the business card on the table, sliding it towards Crowley. It looked very reminiscent of some Bond movie they had watched together a couple weeks ago. "Uh, I accidentally found this in your pants and I was just wondering what it is?" He said, trying to not make it seem like he knew exactly what it was and had been contemplating it intensely.

The following response by Crowley further solidified confusion between the two men and perhaps any outsider trying to understand.

Crowley took the card in his hand with a small frown, running his finger over the sharp edges. "Nothing really. Just some nonsense Beelzebub was talking to me about. Nothing of importance." Crowley explained (truthfully) nervously flapping his hands around more than he probably needed to to make his point.

He didn't want Aziraphale to know Beelzebub told him about the new contract he signed for America. The last thing Aziraphale needed was to feel like Crowley was pressuring him. 

It always seems like Crowley is pushing Aziraphale too much. Too fast. He decided he needed to be patient and let Aziraphale tell him the news himself. This decision, though sweet, only made things worse.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale fought back tears as Crowley blatantly lied to his face. Clearly, if he had the business card in his pants it was important enough. Maybe Gabriel was right. Was Crowley just stringing him along until he left?

Everything in his heart screamed no, that Crowley wouldn’t do that. But as Aziraphale sat across from him, Gabriel’s words ringing in his ears, he felt less sure.

Aziraphale couldn't stop the tears from falling, breakfast forgotten. And now he was ruining breakfast. No wonder Crowley wanted to leave.

Crowley immediately got up and went over to kneel in front of Aziraphale, taking his face in his hands. "Angel, what's wrong?" He cooed gently, his thumbs stroking his soft cheeks.

His hands cradled his angel’s face. He doesn’t think there is anything that is as heartbreaking as seeing him cry.

Aziraphale didn't respond and just cried harder, the tears sliding down his face onto Crowley’s hands. How dare he be so gentle and kind even when he is lying to him? He balled his hands into Crowley’s robe ready to push him away but ended up just pulling him closer.

"It's okay. We don't have to talk about it right now." Crowley said gently and pulled Aziraphale to him, gently stroking his hair. 

Crowley held onto Aziraphale his face pressed against his chest, his ear pressed against where his heart resides. As his crying subsided several minutes later Aziraphale tried to breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of Crowley, that wonderful scent he always had after spending a night with him. Aziraphale’s cologne mingling gently in the air with his own.

"Oh angel, please tell me what's wrong. How can I help?" He says gently, his warm brown eyes full of worry.

"Crowley. My Anthony. I just. I am so very in love with you, and I wish you would tell me the truth about that card because I know you are lying. If you are going to that theatre at least have the decency to not lie to me about it."

Crowley’s eyes met his. “I’m not lying. I’m not going to that theatre.” He said firmly.

“But the contract-” Aziraphale whined out, his chest clenching.

Crowley jerked minutely. “Uh right, the contract.” He said carefully. He didn’t expect Aziraphale to bring up his tour of America on his own and so suddenly.

“I just, with the contract being so long, I feared maybe we were done? And then here you are saying you aren’t going to that theatre so I’m not sure anymore.” Aziraphale said, defeat laced in his voice.

Crowley tried to hide how much Aziraphale’s words stung him. 

Did he want him to go to the theatre? Was Aziraphale trying to end their relationship? It had just seemed like he was so upset over the thought.

“Would we seriously be over just like that? Do you want to end it? I mean I know the contract is intense but isn’t there a way we can make it work. Do you really want me to go?” He had thought they were pretty serious, moving in together serious.

“Well I don’t know, Anthony you tell me!” Aziraphale said, harsh and loud in the kitchen.

Crowley jerked back and stood. Aziraphale never raised his voice. And definitely never at him. 

“I just, it could be good for you. If you want to go, you should go.” Aziraphale forced himself to say, wringing his hands. He shouldn’t hold back his career. Even if it killed him. If Crowley needed some space and distance he wouldn’t deny him it. He knows he can be a lot.

“You want me to go to Europe?” Crowley asked, his eyes wide and vulnerable. Was Aziraphale really so against Crowley staying in America with him. So desperate for a break from him?

“Well no- but. It would be terribly selfish of me to ask you to not go. The contract is already signed.” Aziraphale explained.

“Yeah, a contract like that is pretty binding.” Crowley added sadly. “I wish we could have talked before it was signed. Could have saved us a good bit of trouble.” Crowley tried to joke.

“Well we didn’t though, did we?” Aziraphale said with more bite than he meant, wincing at his own tone. “Sorry, that was- unkind of me.” He said apologizing for his tone. He didn’t blame Crowley for signing the contract for Europe, not truly.

Crowley gave Aziraphale a soft smile in return, at least Aziraphale felt bad about signing the contract without consulting him.”Well, the contract has been signed. No point arguing about it now. So we need to do damage control. The contract needs to be voided. Right?”

Aziraphale hesitantly nodded his agreement. He didn’t want to make Crowley feel like he had to but the whole thing felt off. It seemed so not right for him to sign a contract. Especially after everything they have gone through with Gabriel and the show.

“Well I will call and set up a meeting. We can go together and make sure everything is sorted. That sound okay?” Crowley asked softly, sitting down at the table, setting his hand palm up as an invitation.

Aziraphale reached across and laced his hand with Crowley’s. “Yes, love. Let’s get this mess sorted. I suppose our communication just isn’t always the best. We will work on it together though right? No more secrets or lies?” Aziraphale asked, having no idea how bad their communication really was.

Crowley squeezed his hand in response and leaned across to lightly kiss Aziraphale, a warm press of lips. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you too.” Aziraphale said and squeezed his hand one more time before taking a deep breath and looking around. “I suppose breakfast has gone cold?”

Crowley laughed and looked down at their plates. “Perhaps. Can I tempt you to breakfast out? Then I’ll make that call?”

“Perfect, darling.” Aziraphale cooed in response.

To be perfectly honest by all accounts that conversation could have gone much worse but also much better. If they were truly actors performing on a stage they probably would have not solved the argument at all and the whole second act would be dedicated to them trying to resolve the fight.

This would manifest in an hour of side glances stolen in the theatre and sighs in the night. Aziraphale studying any interview about him. However, this was real life and they both were adults and despite the cluster of misunderstandings clouding the discussion, they still were mature enough to reach a somewhat satisfying conclusion. Neither man wanted their relationship to end.

Even with Gabriel and Beelzebub laying seeds of doubts in both of their minds they had spent enough time together to feel they knew each other a bit better than to end their relationship so easily.

. . .

Aziraphale found Anathema in the back storage room looking through boxes of makeup. “Anathema, do you know where Newt is?”

“He’s up adding a few lights. Gabriel said the kiss scene’s lighting was ‘too intense and ugly’ and made him fix it immediately.” She said sympathetically. Newt had been so proud of the lights too.

Aziraphale tried to hide a groan. “Do you know when he’ll be down?”

She looked at him with pity. “Not for awhile. If you need him. You are going to have to get him.” She said glancing up.

Aziraphale huffed and braced himself. “Thank you. It’ll just be a jiffy.” He said, mostly to himself and started winding his way to the corridors until he found the dreaded door. That dreaded door was dreadfully connected to stairs that dreadfully went up into the ceiling which dreadfully led to walkways up in the ceiling where the lights dreadfully were at.

The door somehow in all of it’s basic glory looked even more menacing than how he remembered it. He tugged on the handle, internally praying it was locked (it wasn’t) and slowly made his way up the stairs.

He made it to the top after several minutes and hesitantly stepped forward onto the railed walkway, doing his best to not look down. He clutched the edge of the door, his knuckles turning white. “Newt!” Aziraphale called, trying to sound less frantic than he was.

Aziraphale heard a small crash followed by a swear that then led to a frazzled Newt to pop up, light in hand. “Yeah?”

“Uh- well,” Aziraphale started, his hands clutching the railing as he stepped a little bit forward “I need to talk to you about the lighting during the French scene.”

“What’s up?” Newt asked, tucking his wrench in his back pocket and settling the light down.

“It’s just, well, the lighting you have right now is completely washing out the red I chose. Is there anyway you could use a more warm toned light?” Aziraphale asked wringing his hands. It normally wouldn’t be such a big deal but quite a lot of time and money was put into making sure the fabric was the appropriate color for the time period, aka very expensive dyes. Seems such a waste for all that work to get erased in his opinion.

Newt seemed to contemplate for a moment. “Hmm, I could probably switch out the source 4 light for a PAR light. Make it a bit less blue?” Newt asked. 

“That would be absolutely lovely, thank you ever so much. Now if you’ll excuse me I am going to be getting down now.” He mumbled and went to leave, desperate to get down.

“Oh wait a minute. I can switch it out right now and you can come see if it looks better.” Newt said and motioned for Aziraphale to follow.

“Really it is quite alright, I trust your abilities.” Aziraphale said placing his hands up.

“It’s no problem. I insist. I need your critical eye.” He said kindly.

Newt wandered off without waiting for a response, leaving Aziraphale to watch his retreating back. “Oh fuck.”

. . .

Crowley left the stage, exchanging a few pleasantries with Shadwell and went backstage to take a break when the side door opened. “Angel?” Crowley asked confused, wiping sweat from his brow. Why in the world was he up in the ceiling?

Aziraphale stumbled out and closed the door quickly, leaning his back against it, his face pale.

“What in Satan’s bloody name were you doing up in the rafters?” Crowley asked looking him over.

“Uh well you see, I needed Newt to adjust some of the lighting and he wanted me to make sure it looked okay which involved a great deal of moving and looking as you can imagine and is it hot in here I am feeling a bit warm.” Aziraphale rambled loosening his bowtie his hands shaking too much to really let him undo it properly. 

“Woah woah woah. Take it easy. Let’s get you back to your office.” Crowley said placing a hand on his arm and one around his waist. “Don’t like heights, huh?”

Aziraphale shook his head no very quickly and clutched onto Crowley. They made it to his office quite slowly, Crowley shooting him concerned looks every couple steps. “Don’t go swooning on me, Zira.”

Once they were at his office and the door firmly closed Crowley lowered Aziraphale into his favorite chair and began making him a cup of tea. Aziraphale breathed in deeply and tried to focus on his feet on the ground and the familiar sounds of Crowley boiling water and scooping sugar into his mug.

After a couple minutes Crowley came to sit across from him and gently gave him the mug, his hand cupping Aziraphale’s as he handed it over. “Got it?”

Aziraphale nodded and brought the tea up to his lips, taking a small sip. “Perfect. Thank you, dear.”

They sat in silence for a bit, Aziraphale slowly drinking his tea, letting the comforting flavors settle in his mouth, his hands wrapped around the warm ceramic.

“Feeling better?” Crowley asked once the mug had been drained and set on the table.

“Ah yes, very much so. Sorry for causing so much trouble. Probably seemed a bit dramatic.” He said condescendingly of himself. Despite their talk earlier that Corwley wasn’t going to leave him and go off to Europe doubt still lingered in his mind. He felt like he was just burdening Crowley.

“No none of that. It was no trouble and you can feel however you want. I have plenty of fears. I didn’t love heights either.”

“I’m so afraid of falling. Of asking for help to not.” Aziraphale said quietly in the room.

Crowley took a deep shuddering breath. “One day I got pushed and I fell,” Crowley said, playing with a small loose thread on his jeans. “Got hurt pretty bad. But I survived. Learned to not be so scared of it. Because I realized plenty of things hurt in life. Sometimes you can prevent them and sometimes you can’t. What matters is how you get back up after you fall. And I learned to ask for help if I need it.” 

Aziraphale swallowed loudly, he felt like his heart was beating too fast. Were they still talking about heights? “It’s so hard to have faith that things will work out. That people want to help.”

Crowley gave him a small grin. “Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.”

Aziraphale laughed softly at that. “Oh how eloquent.” 

“Hey!” Crowley said and started laughing himself. “John Lennon has said some good quotes.”

Aziraphale smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss to Crowley’s lips. “God I love you. You stupid, brilliant, amazing, man.” Aziraphale said grinning during the kiss.

Crowley blushed and ran a hand through Aziraphale’s hair. “But for real. Maybe don’t go up there again. Or I’ll have to make Newt ban you. Can’t have you fainting up there.”

Aziraphale swatted Crowley’s arm lightly. “I’m not THAT bad.” Aziraphale complained.

Crowley made a questioning look which earned him another swat. “You’re incorrigible.” Azirapahale chastised

“Mmm, maybe a little.” Crowley said with a smile. “Also, before I forget. I have everything set up tomorrow to discuss the contract. I wanted to have time to consult my lawyer and stuff to make sure I was prepared going in.”

Aziraphale nodded firmly. “Good idea. I want us to be as prepared as possible for it.”

“We’ll figure it out. Don’t stress about it.” Crowley said fondly and took Aziraphale’s hand, stroking the top of his hand with his thumb in a soothing repetition.

Aziraphale let out a long breath. “I will certainly try not to. I may need a distraction though.” Aziraphale said coyly and raised an eyebrow which made Crowley grin.

“You’re such a bastard. I love it. I think I may have some time in my schedule tonight to distract you.” Crowley murmured, his voice deepening. 

Aziraphale wiggled happily in his seat. “I’ll hold you to that.” He said pulling Crowley forward to plant a firm kiss on his lips. “Distract me from tomorrow?”

Crowley gave a wicked grin and let his hands slowly run down Aziraphale’s body. “With pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> It seemed like some people were maybe confused what was going on last chapter. I tried to be more clear in this one. Did it work? Who knows.


End file.
